


A Kiss is Just A Kiss

by Oft



Category: Tron - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 10:49:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oft/pseuds/Oft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kisses are strange on the grid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sometimes a kiss was just a kiss, sometimes it's something more.

They were in off duty hours, at the edge of Tron City. The Bridge was new, lights not all fixed into place yet. Dyson was newly coded, still learning, and Tron had had a heavy hand at helping him build his log file with everything he needed for his job. They looked back at the city from their vantage point, still marvelling at the progress of the towers that formed its hex perimeter. The air out in the emptiness of the grid was slight, and Dyson's eyes wandered from the city upwards, into the black of the sky where rows of triple pinlights graced it between grey clouds.

'You think the game grid will be up and running this cycle? The gridbugs have become pretty sparse lately.' Tron chuckled at Dyson's comment.

'You know there's nothing stopping you from running through the grid parameters right now, if you wanted.'

'I know, but it's no fun if it's just me.' Dyson's sly grin caught Tron's eye.

'Think you're better than me already?'

'Nono, not that, just . . . restless, I suppose.' Dyson's fingers toyed with the baton at his hip.

'There's plenty of ways to burn off that energy . . . '

Tron's first touch was simply a hand on his shoulder, then a gentle tug as one finger slipped along a solitary point of light at Dyson's collar. Dyson looked down, then raised his head to face Tron, leaning back with Tron closing the space. The railing of the bridge blocked his movement. Tron let a small smile flit over his mouth before leaning forward again, then Dyson was fighting to process the sensation of soft lips against his own, unconsciously opening his mouth to let Tron in. Small nancycles passed of Tron memorizing Dyson by touch before he pulled back to give him space. Dyson brought the back of his hand up to his mouth, now more sensitive after Tron's attentions.

'What was that?' Dyson's brows were furrowed in curious bewilderment.

'You didn't like it?'

'I . . . don't know. Is that something you do in the other system?'

Tron shrugged. 'Not when I was first coded. My other half there introduced me. I figured you'd appreciate it.' Dyson dropped his hand, licking at his lower lip.

'It's certainly strange.' 

Tron just chuckled.


	2. Chapter 2

Dyson looked down on Tron, disk-locked to the shift platform, pixellated wounds criss-crossing his chest. The four squares that marked his designation were broken, one square flickering softly. Dyson wished for a scant moment that things hadn't gone awry, that the isos never showed, that it was just Flynn and the grid and Tron's basics. That Clu hadn't taken such affront to Tron's continuing resistance. He let his hand rest gently on Tron's chest. Tron, for his part looked so weary, energy seeping from his system, and the start of a long wound running from collar to jaw that Dyson was purposely gouging into existance. Tron also refused to look Dyson in the eye. Not that Dyson blamed him. 

But Tron had betrayed him first, and he wasn't feeling particularly forgiving.

'Old friend . . .' Tron's head shifted slightly in Dyson's direction. 'I wish you had just realized. I wish you hadn't fought back. I wish . . .'

'You wish for a lot of things. Not once did you understand what they cost.' Tron's voice was a wreck, but the deep rumble Dyson knew as well as his own code was there under it. 

'You could have just stepped aside.'

'No.'

' . . . because Flynn favored them over us. And you are his blindly loyal bit.' Dyson shuffled through the various tools on the platform next to him. He picked up a thin one, a slender arc attached to a small baton. He rolled it between his fingers, watched the pale green blade shift in hue as the angle changed.

'No. You never did understand.' Dyson whipped his head back, brow furrowed. His fingers dug into the T, making Tron wince. 

'I really am sorry, Tron. If I could change anything. . . '

'You still could.' Tron let his eyes lift up to Dyson now, expression a mix of disappointment and literal pain. Dyson leaned down, closing the space.

'No. It's too late for me.' His lips covered Tron's, a bruising kiss that sought entrance past Tron's gritted teeth. When Tron wouldn't relent, Dyson pulled back.

'Nothing more to say then.' He shook his head as he brought the blade over and plied it to the new wound.


End file.
